David Barratt and George Ella
The Crucible
In his paper The Crucible in the Classroom (Spectrum, Vol. 23, No. 1, Spring, 1991, pp. 51-70), Dr. George Ella argued against Arthur Miller’s claim that The Crucible is the authentic story of the Salem Witch trials. He went on to claim that Miller put the blame for much of the evil in American society at the feet of its founder Puritans and their modern successors and that Miller’s concern in this play was to point the way to an alternative ‘free’ and ‘good’ society dominated by a moral outlook basically opposed to Christian standards. In the following, Dr. David Barratt has given his thoughts on these claims and their significance and Dr. Ella (at very short notice) has written a response to Dr. Barratt’s remarks.
The Crucible Reconsidered by David Barratt
I read George Ella’s article The Crucible in the Classroom with considerable interest and, it must be admitted, a certain amount of exasperation. Having taught The Crucible for many years myself, I did wonder if Dr. Ella had actually tried teaching the play. His basic philosophy is quintessentially the Platonism of The Republic, that all poets are liars, inevitably distorting reality, and should therefore be banished from the (Christian) republic.
To be positive, however, I did feel that Dr. Ella’s historical account of the Mathers, and reasons for their bad press, was a very real contribution to Christian teachers of literature who deal with the text of The Crucible. It does open up an opportunity of discussing why Miller should have distorted history in the way he did, and of pointing up some of the weaknesses of the liberal humanism Miller espouses. Dr. Ella will doubtless realize that literary liberal humanism is under considerable attack these days from many directions: a Christian critique would perhaps pre-empt for students more radical non-religious refutations.
However, underlying this historical account lies Dr. Ella’s very real concern to defend the good name of the Mathers in particular and of Puritanism in general. This leads him constantly away from the text, finally taking him, a little bizarrely I feel, to a traditional Puritan thrust at the evils of play-acting, and the necessary impossibility of a Christian theatre that depicts sinners being sinful. I do not feel inclined to refute this conclusion in this note, but would rather grapple with the question of whether Christians can legitimately teach this particular play, and if so, what they should stress. However, in passing, I can assure Dr. Ella that few, if any, of my students over the years have felt more hostile to Puritanism at the end of their studies than at the beginning, and all have remained in profound ignorance of the Mathers – basically because I have seen no reason to discuss them.
Dr. Ella seems particularly troubled by the depiction of Proctor and Hale and by the insubstantiality of the godly folk who suffered. Miller admits to raising Abigail’s age, but depicts her psychology in a much more complex way than Dr. Ella gives him credit for. Hale is seen as increasingly troubled by Court proceedings, in the end walking out on it. Miller chooses to focus the play increasingly on Proctor and Elizabeth’s relationship. Certainly, this can be criticized dramatically, but Miller’s real concern does emerge in it, which is not the attack on Puritanism, not the effort to reform his audience, but the essential need to establish integrity in terms of one’s ‘name’. It is surely here that Miller’s liberal humanism stands at its strongest, and it is thus here that a Christian critique must primarily address itself, rather than at the distortion of history. Proctor’s adultery has been repented of, and even if in seventeenth century New England it was legally worse than witchcraft, it is not now, nor, I would suggest, is it in biblical terms. The release for Proctor is in receiving his wife’s real forgiveness for that adultery. The consequent complex of temptation to compromise, and courage to stand firm, is sensitively and perceptively done. Dr. Ella seems to show no interest in this handling of a moral dilemma set in such poignant human terms within their emotional and spiritual parameters. Ultimately, Dr. Ella’s condemnation must seem somewhat Pharisaical, in that its interest lies not in the personal but in the forensic. Miller’s claim that ‘one can only pity them all, just as we shall be pitied some day’ is surely what we do feel at the end.
To refute Plato, Aristotle claimed that tragedy must be ‘truer’ than history. If writers are to be judged on the mere fact of re-writing history, then we need to condemn Shakespeare and Dickens. For me, what emerges as ‘true’ in Miller’s play is the depiction of the individual having to act or react in a society (and against a judicial system) that is being controlled by extraordinary forces that from time to time do emerge in human societies. The `fascination’ of the Salem witch-hunts for some Americans, at least, is surely that in a society founded on individual rights and freedoms, society can oppress in such a deadly way. This theme runs through most of Miller’s plays: it is one of the deepest fears of any democratic society. My students respond to that, even when they have never heard of McCarthy and know next to nothing about Puritan New England.
Response by George Ella
I can understand David Barratt finding me ‘exasperating’ but I am sad that he also finds me a ‘little bizarre’, ‘somewhat Pharisaical’ and a ‘Platonist’. However, he will be pleased to learn that I do not believe the old adage that all poets are liars. My 400-page book ‘Paradise and Poetry’ was written to show that a true poet is a truth-teller. Nor do I query the ancients when they say that poetry should be ‘truer’ than life rather than `true-to-life’. The need for poets who are makers, doers and forthtellers of the truth is as necessary today as in the days of Homer. Perhaps more so as man is continually inventing more ways to turn good into evil. The ancients used their various ‘Ideals’ as a touchstone in determining the truth. Christian poets, such as Watts, Browne, Cowper and Toplady, used Scriptures as their guide-line to help them change the false lives of their readers. Is there a better standard?
David Barratt presumes that I am unskilled in literary criticism. This may be the case. There does, however, seem to be a real flaw in his. When I teach The Crucible, I make sure that my students obtain enough background information to enable them to understand the Sitz-im-Leben of the play. Miller is very careful to emphasize the necessity of this and goes to great lengths to provide such ‘information’. This includes lengthy discussions about the ‘absolute evil’ of Puritanism in general and Cotton Mather in particular. It is in giving this disinformation to support his arguments in The Crucible that Miller departs so radically from the truth. Despite Dr. Barratt’s plea for the separation of Miller’s distortion of history from his so-called humanism, Miller allows for no such dichotomy. He distorts Puritan history because he cannot stand the light of the truth it reflects. It is part and parcel of his aim to create new arbitrary social values and a new kind of truth. Thus my aim in writing The Crucible in the Classroom was not to provide a full-blown literary critique but to provide necessary background information for teachers and students who otherwise might not be able to judge Miller’s play objectively. I have met teachers who accept everything that Miller says about eighteenth century Salem, believing him to be the best of moral writers. This is why I find it strange that Dr. Barratt, who knows the truth, keeps his students wittingly in ‘profound ignorance’ of a necessary tool of literary interpretation. This is all the more disturbing as Mather was very successful as a Christian pastor and physician in curing the evils of Salem which Miller leaves worse than they were. Through knowing the true Puritan background, students will be equipped with a means of solving Miller’s problems for him.
Dr. Barratt maintains that ‘Miller’s humanism stands out at its strongest’ when establishing ‘integrity in terms of one’s “name”‘. Who would have believed that? Miller’s tight-lipped dogmatism, which Dr. Barratt calls ‘liberal humanism’, and his efforts to slur the ‘good’ name of not only the New England Puritan leaders but also the godly accused stands revealed for the shallowness it is in the light of such a magnanimous liberal figure as Cotton Mather. No amount of muck-raking can clean a stable. It takes a pitch-fork, wheelbarrow and a good hose-down to do that. Mather saw the ‘muck’, i.e. the root of the trouble, in man’s sin and the fault of the judges in their wrong view of Scriptures and of the Christian faith. This is what led him to start a radical cleaning-up and educational campaign in Boston. Is this not a far better way of combating evil than pretending, as Miller does, that all this good was ‘absolute evil’ and portraying it as such in order to convert the reader to a new kind of unspecified value? Whatever our idea of a true poet is, it cannot be of one who puts his head in the sand, calls ‘good’ evil and ‘evil’ good and condemns the very people who were able not only to reform their age but ours too. Dr. Barratt’s argument that the Salem witch trials were merely the arbitrary stage settings for a play about adultery being committed, repented of and forgiven cannot be accepted since Miller explicitly uses this made-up story to launch a broadside at Puritan faith and morals which he mistakenly equates with his personal view of the ruling politics of his age. In doing so he discards all ideas of grace, mercy and truth to ‘give a dog a bad name.
May I end with a personal testimony? Dr. Barratt writes of the ‘Puritan thrust’ which leads to ‘the necessary impossibility of a Christian theatre that depicts sinners being sinful’. This is a very nice circumlocution avoiding the issue at stake. Christian writers and preachers have always depicted sin in its sordidness before going on to tell of salvation from sin in Christ. They are not usually fooled, however, into thinking that acting sin is merely depicting sin as a preacher does in a sermon. Acting sin can only mean doing sin. I used to love acting and I was considered ‘good’ at it. Shortly after my conversion, I had to seduce a ‘parlour maid’ on stage by chasing her round a table, grabbing her indecently and kissing her passionately. It was then that I realized that I was ‘crucifying Christ afresh’. I stopped the nonsense as I am sure David Barratt and any Christian would have done.
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